


Death Will Only Slow You Down

by OscarWilderThanYou



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OscarWilderThanYou/pseuds/OscarWilderThanYou
Summary: Losing the love of your life is bound to leave some emotional scarring. A new life built on violence and revenge has become your only option, but can that all change when a new mask comes into town? What about when that new mask hides a familiar face.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I’m cold. So cold. The only thing I can feel is the cold as I gradually become aware of my surroundings. My eyes can make out grey blurs moving in the distance. My sense of hearing is my first point of focus. I hear a sickening thud followed by another and another…

I drag my attention to the scene in front of me as I feel my stomach drop. A limp body tied to a chair, still breathing but just barely alive. Even with the bruises and blood I’d recognize that face anywhere. It’s Jason. The terrible noise that first caught my attention sounds again, a crowbar being swung mercilessly into his body.

“No!” I hear myself cry out. “Stop! Not him. Please don’t!”

My pleas fall on deaf ears as the violent beating continues. An evil cackling laughter begins to fill the room.

Jason is fighting to stay quiet, to hide the pain, but broken moans are pouring from his mouth with each hit. He's trying so hard to disguise his fear but I see it in his eyes, eyes clouded with terror and shining with unshed tears.

The laughter rises in volume. "Don't worry," Joker giggles, "this is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me." His voice turns into a snarl at the end as I see the crowbar swing through the air again.

I jolt upright, a silent scream still on my lips. My body is coated in sweat and I feel my heart racing. As the nightmare fades, it takes me a moment to realize that I’m not in that terrible place. I’m still gripping onto the couch for dear life as I focus on slowing my breathing. You’d think I would be used to this by now, having been plagued by the same nightmare for five years.

I hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. I guess it had been too long since I let my body rest. A quick glance at my phone proves that I was only out for three hours. That will have to be enough for today. I push myself off the couch and begin collecting my gear from around the safehouse. At least I had the hindsight to remove my jacket and boots before laying down this time. The final touch was my two favorite .45s holsters to my hips and I’m out the door.

I take to the rooftops and begin my nightly rounds. Violence is rampant in crime alley so I knew it would only be a matter of time before tonight’s activity began. As if on cue, a scream sounds from the street below me. I look down and see three men surrounding two young boys. I silently drop down behind them.

“Can I help you with something gentlemen?” All three of their heads jerk around to look at me, my presence catching them off guard.

The one closest to me raises his gun and points it at my face. “This doesn’t involve you sweetheart,” he sneers.

“See that’s where you’re wrong.” I respond as I take a step closer. I swing my leg up, kicking his gun out of his hand and before he can blink I have him swung around into a chokehold with my gun pressed to his temple. “You’re in my city. That makes you my problem. And I don’t handle problems well,” I speak in a low voice. “I might just have to make an example of you.” I pull the trigger and the gunshot echoes down the street. As his body drops to the ground I turn my aim towards the next man. However before I can shoot I hear two people drop onto the ground behind me.

“Do you always have to ruin my fun?” I ask without bothering to turn around. “Go handle your own criminals, B.”

“You’re killing people.” Batman states.

“Only the ones that deserve it.” I turn around and snap at him. I realize my mistake one second too late and by the time I’ve turned back around the two men have taken off down the street. I take off after them, reloading my gun on the way with Batman and Robin following close behind.

“Bluejay!” Batman shouts my vigilante name. “Enough! Stop this.”

“I don’t take orders from you anymore, old man.” I fire my grappling hook onto a nearby rooftop and pull myself up. I barely touch the ground before I’m running again. Jumping from roof to roof, following the men and avoiding Batman and his sidekick. Finally I’m within range and I take my shot. The first hits dead on, right through the man’s head. As I go to aim my second shot, my gun is knocked out my hand by a batarang.

“You have to stop this, (Y/N). You know this is wrong.” Batman tells me.

I shoot him a glare, “I’m doing what needs done to clean up this city. I’m doing what you won’t. What you didn’t do for him.”

“He wouldnt want you to do this. He wouldn’t want you to live like this,” he tries to play on my emotions.

“It doesn’t fucking matter what he would want.” I snap back. “He’s dead. Thanks to you.”

His calm composure drops and for a breaf moment I see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I tried my hardest to save him. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to. I know you cared for him.”

“Cared for him?” I scoff. “I loved him. I loved him more than anything in the world. That’s why I’ll never be able to forgive you.” I holster my gun and without another word, drop down into the street and slip into the shadows. I know he won’t follow me so I take my time heading back to my safehouse.

As I turn the last corner by my building, I pause. I swear I can feel eyes on me but a quick glance around the street reveals that I am alone. This is not the first time my paranoia has played tricks on me so I brush it off and head inside for another restless night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to have chapter 2 up already. I have the next few chapters already planned out so posting should be consistent. If you guys have any ideas or requests, feel free to let me know!

The next night finds me laying back on the couch, twirling a knife between my fingers with a half empty bourbon bottle within reach. My hands still as I hear the telltale sound of the window opening. In one smooth motion I snap into an upright position, the gun that was laying next to me now pointed directly at the intruder. Thankfully my eyes catch his face before I pull the trigger.

"God damnit Dick!" I snap at him as I set my gun back down. "You know you can't sneak up on me. I could have shot you."

He grins in response. "You wouldn't shoot me." His smile drops into a worried frown as he looks closer at my face. I'm sure I look like shit. The bags under my eyes are pretty much permanent at this point and they're likely ringed red from the booze in my system. "What's going on with you?" he finally asks.

"Nothing," I answer with a neutral expression as I drop my gaze to the floor. Dick steps closer to me and places a hand on my cheek tilting my face up to look at him.

"I know you're not okay. Bruce told me about what happened earlier."

I feel my attitude turn sour and shove his hand away. "So he sent you to check up on me. Well tell daddy dearest I don't plan on anyone else dying tonight, but no guarantees." I flash a smirk as I stand up and push past him to walk away.

He grabs my arm to stop me. "I'm here as Dick, not Nightwing," he speaks softly. "Bruce didn't send me. I'm just worried about you."

"I'm fine." I protest weakly but he can see right through me. At this point, Dick can read me better than anyone. He's the only person I've remained close to since Jason's death. He watched me fall apart and slowly turn into what I am now, but he's never judged me for it.

He sighs and and I turn my face to look at his. "You've gotten more violent, you look like you haven't slept in weeks and you drink more bourbon than water. You're not fine."

I consider arguing but I can see the concern in his eyes and it breaks my resolve. "You're right," I whisper brokenly. "I'm not okay. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. It's just like the video, except I'm there. He's being beaten and I'm there and I still can't fucking stop it," my voice rises in volume as the words pour out and a sob rips through my chest. "I can't stop it. I can't save him. It's like he dies all over again every time I close my eyes and I can't handle it anymore." I'm crying uncontrollably by the end.

Without a word, Dick wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. I bury my head as the tears continue, my body shaking with the force of my sobs. He just holds me and lets me cry, knowing there's nothing he can say to make me feel better. Eventually I begin to calm down, my sobs fading to silent tears.

"You need to sleep," Dick says softly without pulling away. I know he's right but I dread the nightmares that I know will return as soon as I close my eyes.

"Will you stay?" I ask, the plea in my voice obvious.

"Of course," he whispers as he presses a kiss to my hair. Walking into my room, I grab a pair of sweats and one of Jason's t-shirts before heading into the bathroom to change.

By the time I return Dick has changed into some of the extra clothes that he's left here and is lounging on my bed. I head to the other side of the bed and crawl under the covers. I lay down facing Dick and he reaches over to grab my hand.

"Thank you," I murmur quietly. "I don't know why you deal with me."

"Because I care about you,. You're family" he responds. His lips curve into a sad smile. "And I promised Jay a long time ago that I would always watch over his girl."

The last sentence brings tears to my eyes again but I feel myself smiling all the same. Jay's girl, I'd always be Jay's girl. It doesn't matter how many years pass, my heart will always belong to him. I try to hold onto that thought as I close my eyes and drift off.

I awaken as the sun is starting to creep into the room. I sit up and wince, the few hours of rest have done little for the bone-deep weariness I carry with me and I'm feeling every bruise and pulled muscle from the days before. I slowly pull myself out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. There's a note resting on the counter. I pick it up and unfold it to reveal Dick's messy chicken-scratch.

Little sis,

Sorry I had to take off, B needed me for something. I hope you got some rest. There's food in the fridge that you better eat. Call me if you need anything.

Stay safe!

I set the note back on the counter and head to the fridge. I already feel guilty that Dick thinks he has to take care of me, the least I can do is actually listen to him for once. I grab the box of take out and a fork and make my way towards the couch, setting my food in the coffee table. 

I'm just about to sit down when something catches my eye. There's something stuck to my window, a photograph. I stare at it as my right hand grabs a gun off the table. I slowly walk towards the window, listening for any movement in the apartment. However, all sense of stealth is lost the moment I can make out the photo. My gun drops noisily to the floor, my hand flying up to cover my mouth in shock. I've seen this picture before. My hand shakily reaches up and rips the picture off the window. 

It's faded and wrinkled, clearly ripped out of a newspaper from years ago, but I recognize it in a heartbeat. It's us. Jason and I. I'm smiling at the camera and Jason has his arm around my waist. He's smiling too, but he's looking at me.

That was the first gala Jason had ever brought me to. We had been friends for months but he was still a nervous wreck when he asked me to go with him. That night feels like a lifetime ago. Both of us were so young, with our entire lives ahead of us.

It's only when a tear hits the picture that I realize I'm crying. That realization brings me back to reality and I notice something about the photo. There's writing in the corner, neat handwriting that spells out a message that stops my heart. "What happens next is your fault." 


	3. Chapter 3

 

The next few days I was tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The message from the photo was haunting my thoughts and I knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. 

However as the days passed, I pushed it to the back of my mind. I had bigger things to worry about than a simple threat by an unknown assailant. By the next week, I was fully focused on my original mission, avenging Jason.

It's night again and I'm taking a break from patrol on a rooftop. My back is pressed against a chimney and my legs are stretched in front of me, crossed at the ankles. I suddenly feel a tingle on the back of my neck that lets me know I'm not alone. I spin around, gun already in my hand pointed directly at the unexpected guest. The first thing I note is the shear size of the man in front of me. He has to be at least as tall as Bruce with thick muscles covering every inch of his frame. Black motorcycle boots lead up to cargo pants and a tight black shirt with a brown leather jacket completing the look. What holds my attention the longest though is the bright red helmet that covers his entire face. And I thought domino masks were excessive.

He's staring at me and I wait for him to say something. He cocks his head to the side... and he laughs. He fucking laughs! "Oh that's cute," a deep voice rumbles from his chest. "I thought guns were a no-no to you Bats though."

"I'm not a Bat," I hiss as I cock the gun.

"Really?" he asks, still the picture of ease. He walks over to the chimney I previously occupied and leans against it, kicking one leg up to press his foot against the brick. "You seem to spend a lot of time with them."

"Old drama," I throw out, sarcastically copying his casual tone.

"Old drama" he repeats my words back to me in a thoughtful tone. "Interesting."

"Did you need something or are you just here to waste my time?" I'm getting impatient now and something about the man in front of me is unnerving.

"I was actually just wondering if you got my note." My heart stops. "I thought you would like it." He sounds smug and I try my best to hide my reaction to his words.

I feel like I'm going to be sick but I force myself to continue the conversation. "Since you clearly already know my name, can I get yours? And maybe the reason why you're in my city?" I manage to get the question out without my voice shaking.

"The name's Red Hood sweetheart," he answers while walking back to the edge of the roof. "And this is my city now." With that he throws himself into a flip off the side of the building.

I immediately take off after him, leaping down the side of the fire escape as fast as I can. By the time I get to the bottom he's mounting a motorcycle and I sprint his direction, certain I have time to grab him. I jump towards him when I'm close enough but he manages to throw a smoke bomb just in time to catch me off guard. He ducks out of my reach at the last moment and the smoke makes it impossible for me to calculate another lunge. I hear the motorcycle scream to life and the wheels peel down the road. By the time the smoke clears, there's no evidence of the Red Hood remaining. 

"Fuck!" I shout into the empty alleyway. I yank the rarely used comm out of my jacket pocket and shove it in my ear. A quick tap and it's on.

"Bluejay?!" I hear Dick's surprised exclamation.

"Yeah it's me," I growl out. "We have a problem."

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dread fills my stomach as I head toward the one place I swore I would never go again, Wayne Manor. I pull up next to the front door and kill the engine on my motorcycle. I take a minute to compose myself before I swing my leg over the bike and walk to the door. Somehow the Manor seems even larger than it used to. I hesitate before knocking and I hear footsteps approach the door. I tense, preparing myself for whoever may open the door, but break into a smile at the kind eyes that appear in front of me.

"Miss (Y/N)," he greets me with a smile of his own. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Hi Alfred." I step through the door and can't help but pull the man into a hug. "I've missed you."

He seems shocked by my show of affection but gently returns the hug. For a brief moment I feel like I might cry. I forgot what this was like, to have people that care about me. I lost more than just Jason that day, I lost an entire family and I try to forget how much that hurts.

"Master Richard is waiting for you downstairs," Alfred tells me. At his words I pull away and draw my face into the impassive mask that I usually wear, all previous sorrow pushed aside.

"Of course," I respond. "Is it just him?" I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

"Master Bruce and Master Timothy are still on patrol. There was an incident at the docks a few nights ago that they are still investigating."

His response fills me with relief. I don't know if I can handle a lecture from Batman right now.

"Thanks Alfred," I say as I walk past him and through the foyer. I move quickly towards the cave, trying my hardest not to look around and avoid bringing up any painful memories.

As I descend the steps into the Batcave, I see Dick standing near the central computer. He's still in his Nightwing suit and his hair is touseled, clearly from him running his fingers through it repeatedly. He looks up at me as I approach. I stand next to him and lean back against the computer terminal.

"Thanks for coming (Y/N). I wasn't sure if you would," he trails off and looks up at me.

"I wasn't sure I should," I answered honestly. "But I have a bigger problem to deal with right now."

Dick's face hardens. "I know. This Red Hood is becoming a big problem for everyone."

"You've dealt with him?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes, he's still fairly new to the scene but he's definitely making a big impression. Guy shows up out of nowhere about two weeks ago with a duffle bag full of severed heads belonging to local drug lords and proceeds to take over Black Mask's territory."

"This guy's challenging Black Mask?" I ask, the surprise and confusion obvious in my voice. "Does he have a death wish?"

"Possibly," Dick chuckles darkly. "But he seems to be holding his own fairly well. He's taken over approximately 40% of Black Mask's business in those two weeks."

"Drug wars aren't really your thing. So how did he attract your attention?" I raise my eyebrow questioningly at him.

"Three nights ago Batman and Robin intercepted a crate that was meant for Black Mask. It was a humanoid android whose sole purpose was to murder anything it came in contact with. Apparently it was to act as a personal gift from the Red Hood. I overheard the commotion through the comm link and came over to help." As he finishes talking, he pulls up several files on the computer screen. "This is all of the information we currently have on this guy. It's not a lot but at least it's a start."

"Good. We need all the information we can get," my voice is steely as I respond.

Dick spins his chair around to face me, concern evident on his face. "Why did Red Hood shake you up so bad? Usually you aren't fazed by interactions with bad guys."

"He knows who I am, Dick." My eyes flash up to meet his. "He left a message for (Y/N) but confronted me about it when I was Bluejay."

Dick eyes widen in horror. "How did he find out?" he asks.

"I don't know," I answer quietly. "I have no idea and it scares the shit out of me." I pull the picture out my pocket and hand it to Dick. "He left this on my window."

Dick looks at the picture and I see pain flash through his eyes at the sight of Jason's face before the message catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why does he say it's your fault? What do you have to do with this?"

"I have no idea," I admit.

He must be able to read the fear in my eyes because he offers, "I'm staying at my Gotham safehouse for awhile. Why don't you stay with me?"

The offer's tempting. I haven't even managed a fitful sleep since my encounter with Red Hood and the safety of Dick's apartment sounds comforting. "I don't want to intrude," I protest weakly.

"You never intrude (Y/N)."

"Okay," I agree. "Just until this Red Hood guy is stopped."

"Sounds good." Dick nods as he speaks.

Just then, I hear a load engine roar into the cave. Shit. I wanted to be out of here before Bruce got back. Dick shoots me an apologetic smile and stands as the batmobile stops. The passenger door opens first and Tim leaps out. The teen greets me and pulls me into a quick hug before heading to the computer to input the night's updates.

"(Y/N)" Bruce's deep voice echoes through the cave, his greeting significantly less friendly than Tim's. "I didn't expect to see you here," he states with a displeased expression.

"I asked her to come," Dick jumps in before I can offer my own seething remark. "She had some information on the Red Hood that I thought might be helpful."

"Is that so?" Bruce asks, his attention moves from Dick's face to mine. "Would you like to fill me in?"

"I already gave Dick all of the information I have and I was just getting ready to leave," I respond with as much malice as I can infuse into my words. I quickly turned towards Dick. "Does my key still work?" I ask, referring to his apartment.

"Of course," he responds. "I'll be there later. I have some stuff to work on here."

"Not a problem. See you later. Bye Tim," I call towards the boy.

As I turn to leave I hear Bruce's voice. "(Y/N)?" he calls. I look at him and raise my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "It's nice to see you. We'd like to have you around again."

"You know my stipulation. End the clown and maybe I'll come back," I look him directly in the eyes as I speak.

"You know I can't do that," he states firmly.

"Then I can't be part of this," I answer as I turn and head back upstairs before Bruce can say anything else.

As I open the front door I hear a gentle "Goodbye Miss (Y/N)."

I shoot him a sad smile. "Goodbye Alfred." I continue outside and mount my motorcycle, riding off into the night.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

The ride to Dick's apartment allows me far too much time to think. As the first streaks of sunlight hit the sky the streets are quiet, too early for even Gotham to cause trouble. Though seemingly peaceful, the silence grants my thoughts the forefront of my attention. It has been a long 24 hours and I have a lot to think about, starting with Gotham City's newest drug lord. Although it has only been a few hours, my confrontation with the Red Hood feels like a lifetime ago.

I try to analyze our interaction from an objective view, recreating the scene in my mind and cataloging any details I can remember. I also consider the most unnerving part of the entire situation, the note that started it all. The note that shows that he not only knows my secret identity but he also blames me for something. He wants me to know that he's doing this because of me, that his reign of terror in Gotham is my fault. The message made that clear, but what isnt clear is why. I've mulled it over countless times since then, but I can't figure out what I could have done to endure this man's wrath.

My mind is still stuck in this loop as I park my bike outside of Dick's building. The old brick building looks exactly the same as it always has. Since I'm in civies I opt to use the main entrance and elevator, far too exhausted to climb through the window. As I open the door and walk through the lobby, nostalgia washes over me in waves. I hit the up button and the elevator creaks open. The ride to the forth floor is short and I see the door to Dick's apartment as I step out. I dig my key out of my jacket pocket, half impressed that I can still find it.

Dick had given me the key after Jason's death, when I practically lived on his couch. Growing up my parents were never around so as I became close friends with Jason, and later the entire Wayne family, I all but moved into the manor. The guest bedroom I often stayed in slowly filled with my possessions and I rarely went back to my parents' apartment. My status as a family member was solidified even more once I discovered the family secret.

I' _m returning a book I had borrowed from Jason when I open his door and immediately freeze at the sight in front of me. Jason is standing by the window, wearing the entire Robin costume sans domino mask. His eyes widen when he sees me and he freezes as well. A few seconds pass before Jason slowly brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck and finally speaks. "Hi babe," he says, smiling sheepishly._

It was fairly simple to determine Bruce's and Dick's identities after that. To say Bruce wasn't pleased would be an understatement but he realized there wasn't much he could do. That was the night that Wayne Manor truly became my home.

Unfortunately after Jason's death I could barely stand to be in the manor. Everywere I looked reminded me of him and it made me feel sick. Bruce was too focused on his own pain to notice my struggle but Dick noticed, offering to let me stay with him. I think his offer was as much for his benefit as mine, as he was dealing with his own grief and couldn't stand to be alone.

For months I hardly moved from Dick's couch. I couldn't sleep and barely ate and I could tell it worried Dick. He was determined to put me back together so he wouldn't lose someone else. For a brief moment it seemed like he was succeeding in his mission, but one intense night changed everything.

_We're sitting on the couch when Dick's phone goes off. He grabs it off the coffee table and frowns at the caller ID. "Bruce," he greets curtly. Whatever Bruce replies with has Dick's demeanor changing and his face hardens. "I understand. I'll be there," he answers quickly before hanging up._

_"What's going on?" I ask as Dick moves through the apartment to gather his Nightwing gear. He freezes for a moment at my words. He turns to face me and I can tell he's bracing himself for my reaction to his next words._

_"The Joker broke out of Arkham."_

_I blink in confusion. "That's not possible. Joker's dead." I feel my confusion shifting to anger as realization washes over me. "You told me he was dead. You said that Bruce confronted him as Batman and it got violent and he killed the Joker." I'm standing by the end of my sentence and I can feel myself shaking with anger._

_Dick flinches at my harsh tone. "What I told you was the truth. Batman did confront the Joker and it was violent. Violent as hell. But when I told you that, you assumed Joker was dead and I didn't want to cause you more pain by correcting you." He looks at me with pity in his eyes and it enfuriates me more._

_"So Batman just let him go? After the psychopath murders his son, he just kets him go?" I'm shouting now._

_"He didn't let him go. He sent Joker to Arkham," Dick argues._

_"Which is clearly working out so well,"  sarcasm drips from my words._

_"Batman doesn't kill, (Y/N)," his words beg me to understand._

_"I know, but this was supposed to be the exception. Joker killed Jason, took Bruce's son away from him, took your brother away. Doesn't he deserve to die for that?" Tears roll down my face as I continue to yell at Dick._

_He looks pained when he answers. "That's not our decision to make."_

_"Why not?" I ask. "No one else is going to do it. People like the Joker don't deserve second chances. If Bruce could just see that, if I could make him understand, he could finally end this."_

_"Bruce is never going to kill Joker," Dick's voice is certain._

_"Then I will," I growl out the sentence as I turn and storm out the front door._

That was the last time I was in the apartment. That night was the beginning of the destructive path I currently find myself on.

I shake my head, snapping out of the memory as I realize that I'm still standing in the hallway of the apartment building. My grip tightens on the key in my hand as I move to unlock the door and turn the doorknob. As I step into the apartment, the early morning sun hits my eyes and momentarily blinds me. I blink quickly, adjusting to the brightness. Once my vision clears, I feel my eyes widen at the sight in front of me. Directly across from the door a dagger is sticking out of the usually blank wall. The blade protrudes out of the white plaster, holding up a piece of paper with my name written on it in elegant black handwriting. I rush over to yank the note of the wall, my stomach sinking at the thought of its likely origin. I unfold the paper and stare at the simple message.

**You can run but you can't hide**.

Very simple, just the one sentence, less ambiguous than the first note but still unsettling. I look over the note again, checking for any clues or hidden markings before turning my attention to the dagger. I grab the handle and pull it from the wall so I can examine it. The handle is mostly black but it has a gold inladed design wrapping around it. The lines seem random at first but then I notice a pattern far too complex to follow. The handle's design weaves towards the blade and upon closer inspection, I see engravings on the metal that continue the pattern. This is not just a regular knife. It has been meticulously crafted and judging by its perfect balance, it was crafted to kill.

When Dick gets home later in the morning, I am seated on the couch still holding the dagger. I have been twisting it around, trying to make sense of the pattern and look for any clues as to its source. Dick walks out of the bedroom in his Nightwing suit, having entered through the window. 

"What's that?" he asks, eyeing the blade. 

"A present," I say without lifting my gaze. "From the Red Hood. He left a message for me." 

Dick is silent as he walks over and I grab the note off of the coffee table to hand it to him. He looks it over quickly before speaking. "Where was this?" he asks.

I nod my head in the direction of the now empty wall. "There," I state, "stuck to the wall with this dagger through it."

"But how did he know you would come here?" The unease is his voice is obvious. 

My voice cracks as I answer, "I don't know." I finally turn my head to look at Dick, the fear likely visible on my face. "I don't know." I know I'm repeating myself but I don't know what else to say. Dick moves to sit next to me and holds his hand out.

"Can I see the dagger?" he asks. I spin it in my hand and offer the handle to him. He looks it over before speaking again. "There's something strange about this. It's not the kind of weapon someone in Gotham would have, especially a gang leader," he stares intently at the markings as he talks.

I finally find my voice. "I thought the same thing." Dick is still looking at the knife as I continue to speak. "It's too elegant, too perfect. Why would someone like the Red Hood have this?"

He ignore my question. "We should show this to Bruce."

"No," I snap and Dick finally looks up at me. 

"He could help," Dick tries to persuade me. "He might know where this came from."

"I said no," I say firmly as I stand up.

"(Y/N)-" he starts again but I interrupt.

"I said no, Dick!" I shout. "I don't need Bruce's help. And I sure as hell don't want it. I'll figure this out on my own."

Dick stands as well and reaches to grab my arm. "If you would just quit being so stubborn and let someone help you for once-"

I interrupt him again with a humorless laugh. "I don't want help from people who aren't willing to do what's necessary. So thanks, but no thanks. I made a mistake coming back here." I rip my arm from his grasp and walk towards the door. 

"(Y/N)" Dick calls softly, sounding defeated. "I won't say anything to Bruce. Just please don't leave. I worry about you out there on your own."

I glance back and see the pleading look in his eyes. Sighing with resignation, I walk back and throw myself on the couch. "Fine. I'll stay." 

"Thank you," he says with a relieved sigh. He's silent for a moment and I glance over to see him watching me hesitantly. 

"Dickie, I mean it. I'll stay," I tell him honestly. I'm much too exhausted to fight with him any more. He must see something on my face that makes him believe me because he visibly relaxes and shoots me a small smile as he moves to sit next to me again. 

"Okay," he says, placing a hand on my leg. "We'll figure this out (Y/N). I promise."

"I hope so," is my only answer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to express my sincerest apologies for the delay on this chapter. Thank you all for your patience!

 

"I swear you're worse than Tim." I look up at the sound of Dick's voice but make no effort to respond. He walks over to where I'm seated at the table. "You've been bent over that laptop for days. When was the last time you slept?"

"What day is it?" I ask and I see Dick's jaw tense.

He ignores my question and picks up the coffee cup by my arm. "And this cup hasn't left your side. How many cups of coffee have you drank?"

"I stopped measuring my coffee in cups about three pots ago," I answer with disinterest as I stare back at the computer screen.

Dick slams my laptop closed. "This isn't funny (Y/N)."

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" I glare up at him.

He crosses his arms and glares back at me. "You need to take a break."

"I don't have time to take a break," I snap. "In case you forgot, there's a psychotic mass murderer hell bent on revenge and the only leads I have are Black Mask, a fancy knife, and a personal vendetta."

Dick's glare softens at my outburst. "We'll figure it out (Y/N)," he says and I throw my arms up in frustration.

"You keep saying that and yet we are no closer to knowing Red Hood's true intentions than we were last week. I have no idea what our next move should be."

Dick places a reasurring hand on my shoulder. "That's actually what I originally came to tall to you about."

I don't respond and Dick takes my silence as a sign to continue. "There's a gala tonight at the manor and I've heard talk that some of Black Mask's top men will be there to scope out potential clients. It's the perfect opportunity to find out Black Mask's next move."

My mind is already tracing the path of Dick's plan. "And if we know where Black Mask will be, we can figure out where Red Hood will strike next," I continue his train of thought.

"Exactly!" he exclaims with a grin.

"So while you distract Bruce, I'll corner them and get as much information as I can." I feel hopeful for the first time in weeks.

"You can't be there (Y/N)." ...and just like that, my hope is gone. To his credit, Dick does look apologetic after he speaks.

I click my jaw, biting back the harsh words I want to spew. "I'm going," I state firmly.

"No, you're not," Dick responds.

"Why not?" I ask, already fully aware of the answer.

Dick hesitates for a second, trying to find a way to phrase it. "Your methods can be a bit excessive," he stutters a bit before the last word and I can tell he's tying not to piss me off. It's not working.

"My methods may be excessive," I say the word mockingly, "but at least they show results." I push myself away from the table and head to the couch, needing to put some space between Dick and I. We sit in tense silence for a few minutes, both waiting for the other to give in.

Luckily for me, Dick's never been very patient. He gives a long, exagerated sigh before he speaks, "I didn't mean to make you upset Little Bird." When I don't respond, he sighs again. "Fine. You can go," he finally acquiesces. "But we're doing it my way."

"Okay," I answer with a nod. I'm hesistant to agree to his stipulation, but at this point I'll take what I can get.

"I mean it (Y/N)," Dick's voice in uncharacteristically serious and it forces me to look him in the eye. "If you go too far, I will tell Bruce immediately." The threat has a sense of finality to it that stops me from arguing further.

"Okay," I agree again.

Dick moves to sit next to me and wraps his arms around me. The hug is clearly meant as an apology. I know Dick hates fighting with people he loves so I return the hug as a sign of forgiveness. "So I'll pick you up at 7?" he teases.

His stupid line catches me off guard and I find myself laughing. When I pull back Dick's face is stretched in a wide grin and he laughs with me. With the tension in the room finally broken, we start to prepare for the night ahead.

I feel nervous as we pull up in front of Wayne Manor. Dick must have noticed because he reaches over and squeezes my hand to reassure me before getting out of the car. I take a deep breathe and focus. I have a part to play tonight and the plan will fall apart if I let my nerves get the best of me. Dick and I went over every detail of the night, perfecting our story. By the time Dick walks around and opens my door, my mask of indifference is fully in place. As I take Dick's hand and step out of the car, I curl my lips into a smile. I make a show of lacing my arm through his and allowing him to walk me inside. I'm nearly blinded by camera flashes as questions are shouted at Dick and I.

My stomach lurches but I do not allow my face to portray my unease. This is all part of the plan. Even with this being a masquarade ball, we knew the reporters would recognize me the second I got there so we played it to our advantage. Our story is simple. After my relationship with the second Wayne son ended tragically, I buried my pain in booze and drugs. Over the years, I turned to the eldest Wayne son to bankroll my addiction. With his reputation as a bit of a man whore, it was fairly obvious what he got in return out of our arrangement. So far, we were playing our roles perfectly. My long black dress was skin tight and low cut, complete with a slit up the right side that revealed most of my leg. The black mask framed my eyes perfectly and matched the one gracing Dick's face. Dick's arm was wrapped around my waist but his hand was placed a little too low than was appropriate for the company.

Once inside, Dick grabbed two champagne glasses from a nearby server and handed one to me as we began our obligatory walk around the room. This was always my least favorite part of these galas, listening to Gotham socialites brag about their own success. I feigned interest in the conversations around me, depending on Dick to keep up with the necessary social cues as I scan the room for Black Mask's men. Dick's playing up his natural charm tonight, his infectious laugh and flirtatious smiles rivaling even those of his mentor. Speaking of which, Bruce has been watching us closely, his eyes dark with suspicion. He's focusing mostly on me and I can tell he's trying to determine how much of our story is actually true. My eyes meet his across the room and Bruce raises an eyebrow in question before starting to move in our direction.

"Shit," I breathe out almost silently.

Dick glances at me before catching sight of Bruce.

"I must apologize, but we must be going. I have not had a chance to dance with my lovely date this evening," Dick quickly dismisses us as he pulls me away. We move onto the dance floor and Dick sweeps me into a waltz, matching the flow of the other couples flawlessly. Years of being Bruce Wayne's ward combined with Dick's natural grace have made him a wonderful dancer. We move together in synchronised motions, a little closer and more sensual than necessary to keep up our story. Bruce hesitates as he approaches the dance floor before ultimately turning back around and I breathe a sigh of relief. As Dick and I continue to dance I scan the room for our targets. Two figures in the far corner catch my attention, something about their movements not fitting in with the rest of the crowd. A quick blink and they're gone.

"They're here," I tell Dick quietly. He nods as he slows our dance. The decreased pace allows me to focus more on my search, however a few more songs pass with no sign of the men. Suddenly, a deep voice sounds from behind me and Dick looks up.

"Would you mind if I borrowed your date for a dance?" The question is clearly directed at Dick so I do not bother to turn around.

"Not at all," I hear Dick respond as he drops his hands from my body and steps back. I finally turn my attention to the man behind me. My first thought is that he's gorgeous, the textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He stands a few inches taller than Dick, with broad shoulders. His dark suit is tailored to fit him perfectly and I can see the bands of muscle that wrap his entire body. His black hair is pushed back out of his face with a small white streak near the front. A few stands have fallen forward, making him look slightly disheveled. The mask he wears is a deep blood red and covers most of his face, adding to a sense of mystery. The man takes my right hand and bring it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to it in greeting.

"Good evening," he speaks in low, rough voice.

"Good evening," I respond somewhat shakily, making him smirk.

"May I have this dance?" he asks articulately, but with a slight hint of lower Gotham accent. I merely nod in response. He places a hand on my hip and pulls me forward, flush against his body and we begin to move. I follow his lead as he moves us around the dance floor. He pushes and pulls me slightly to guide me as we move through a dance far more complex and sensual than any I've ever seen. If my dance with Dick was sexy, then this was downright sinful. Our bodies are pressed together, our movements liquid, as we stare into each others eyes, eyes that seem so familiar. The music surrounds us as we dance, growing in speed and volume. Suddenly he spins me away only to pull me back in and tilt me back into a low dip, grabbing my leg and hooking it around his hip as I lean back and the song comes to an end. I stare up at him breathing heavily and he smiles down at me. Pulling me up, barely a whisper away from his lips, my heart pounds as I stare at his lips waiting for a kiss.

"The men you are looking for have been removed from the party," he speaks quietly and my eyes snap up to his.

"What?" I ask dumbfounded.

"I can't have you finding me that easily, doll." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "That's not how this game works."

With that, he turns around and walks away, slipping into the crowd while I'm frozen in shock. I can't risk following him anyway, as it would attract too much attention.

I'm still staring at the spot where he disappeared when Dick finds me.

"(Y/N)?" He lightly places a hand on my arm to get my attention. I turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What happened?" he asks.

"I think I just danced with the devil," I answer. As I speak, a scream sounds from the front door as two men are found with matching bullets in their skulls.

  
  
  
  



End file.
